How much you want it, what it means to you, how you want to do it, who you want to do it with. I was drunk and I willingly went upstairs with him. We must not begrudge any woman her happy ending, but the next revolution will be an acknowledgment that happy endings come in many forms. One of the scariest parts for me was that he was completely silent for all of this, save for some heavy breathing and moaning. Yet a whole edifice seemed fixed in place to protect us from ourselves, and from the dangerous vaginas we were carrying around like unexploded bombs. Her self-deprecating, acerbic jokes were sliced out in the edit suite; vulgar remarks that were deemed insufficiently ladylike were excised from her column. It all started when I was sixteen. I drank to the point where I was fairly intoxicated— flirting and kissing a boy I met way back in sixth grade. I wanted to forget all of the things that I endured.